


Nothing But Ruined Pride

by not_quite_anonymous



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Basically a scene rewrite, Canon Compliant, Light Angst, M/M, Yamaguchi being an icon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:07:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27353218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/not_quite_anonymous/pseuds/not_quite_anonymous
Summary: “What do you need outside your own pride?”Tsukishima finds out exactly what he needs.//my take on THAT scene from season 2 episode 8
Relationships: Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 10
Kudos: 48
Collections: Yamaguchi Week 2020





	Nothing But Ruined Pride

**Author's Note:**

> happy yamaguchi week 2020! yamaguchi is one of my biggest comfort characters and kins, so of course i had to participate :) i’ll be trying my best to post a few more times this week so stay tuned! the prompt that i chose for today was “pride”
> 
> i immediately thought of this iconic scene and just had to write it. also it's haikyuu angst week! unplanned, but this works out i guess? i claim no originality, this is basically just season 2 episodes 7 and 8 rewritten in my words with a lot more introspection and a few creative liberties. hope you enjoy it!

Lame. Yamaguchi was so lame. 

He knew it, Tsukishima knew it, everyone knew it. He was always too cowardly, always too awkward. He never knew how to act around other people, or what to say when conversations started to slow, or what to do when things didn’t go to plan. He fumbled his way through social interactions like he fumbled his receives in volleyball.

Yamaguchi couldn’t understand how people could be so effortlessly cool. Nearly every lunch, he watched as Kageyama was shyly approached by girls clutching confession letters and chocolates. Kageyama always turned them down of course (making Yamguchi cringe at the blunt language and devastated look in the rejected girl’s eyes, as if she thought that maybe she would be the one to break his stoic facade) and usually ended up giving the chocolates to Hinata, who would complain about how  _ he _ never got confessed to through a mouthful of caramel. 

However, the coolest person that Yamaguchi knew without a doubt was Tsukishima. Ever since the first time that Tsukishima saved him from the bullies in elementary school with a curled lip and a single uttered “pathetic”, Yamaguchi was struck with awe. To him, Tsukishima was a superhero, all cool demeanor and long legs and a smirk that made Yamaguchi’s knees weak. 

At first, Yamaguchi had practically worshipped him, stumbling over his words and desperately trying to get Tsukishima to like him. Over the years though, their relationship had settled into a much more comfortable rhythm. The banter flowed naturally and Yamaguchi slowly got bolder in his taunts. Tsukishima was still a step ahead though, always ready with a witty comeback or a lighthearted jab. No matter how used to each other Yamaguchi thought they were, there were times that Tsukishima still took his breath away. Not world-shaking events, just little things like how he asked Yamaguchi to tape his fingers or the tiny sliver of skin just above his waistband that showed when he raised his arm to adjust his glasses. He was still so tall, so collected, and so  _ cool _ .

And Yamaguchi. Was. So. Lame.

The summer volleyball training camp had only proven that so far. No matter how much he tried, how much he trained and sweated and practised serves until his right palm was hot to the touch, he was still lagging behind. It seemed like all of the other first years were light years ahead of him, and he was just an afterthought at best. Kageyama was a natural prodigy setter, and combined with Hinata’s insane athleticism they made up the core of Karasuno’s offence. On the other end, Tsukishima’s sharp mind and tall frame made for an insurmountable defence, shutting down spikes left and right.

And what was Yamaguchi good for? He was their pinch server, but he couldn’t even do that right. He had failed his team time and time again, even after being given chance after chance. Every time he messed up a serve or botched a pass he would grit his teeth and clench his fists, until his jaw ached and perfect crescents were indented into his skin. Most of the time though, he didn’t even get to play. He would sit on the bench and look longingly at the court, cheering appropriately while secretly wishing that it was him who made that last spike or that perfect service ace. He wanted to be out there, to feel the squeaking of shoes beneath his feet and the weight of the volleyball in his hands. But all he could do was watch.

He watched as Karasuno improvised and floundered their way through games, scoring points but losing sets. Every time they lost a set and sprinted up the hill, the sun’s rays on the back of his neck and the sweat dripping down his forehead made him want to quit. And yet, every time, he managed to push just a little bit more. Hinata and Kageyama’s quick attack was on the fritz, and their synchronized attacks were anything but. However, he could feel the tension, the drive for improvement, the hunger of every team member to get better. Every team member… but one. 

Tsukishima didn’t understand why everyone was so fervent. Volleyball was just a club, after all. What was the point in getting so worked up over a dumb extracurricular? For him, it was nothing more than a checkmark on a to-do list and a jot note on his schedule. It never did anyone any good to get overinvested in anything. All that would lead to is disappointment when it ends. And it will end. Everything ends. He didn’t  _ hate _ volleyball ー he wouldn’t have joined the team or come to this training camp if he did ー but he just didn’t have the passion that everyone else did. Why should he jump for a ball that wouldn’t come to him or try and recover a ball that would only get blocked? It was just energy wasted, in his opinion. So he was fine in just doing his part and nothing more, thank you very much. When the whistle blew to signify the end of the match, Tsukishima caught Yamaguchi staring at him. He held his gaze for a few seconds, then walked away to prepare for another lap.

Yamaguchi looked at himself in the boy’s bathroom mirror with the same intensity that he used to observe matches, tracing his fingers over his freckled cheeks. What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he be like all the other first years? The entire day he had only been put in to serve twice, and he had flubbed one of them. His mind processed the events of the day: a shouting match between Hinata and Kageyama, Asahi’s spike pulling the team together, a blank stare that had lasted for several awkward moments too long…

Yamaguchi recalled memories even further back. Memories of joining a volleyball team for the first time, going to see a practice match with Tsukishima, and the look of confusion and betrayal on his face when he didn’t see Akiteru on the court, but in the stands instead. Puzzle pieces began clicking together. The reason why Tsukishima was so reluctant to commit to volleyball, why he insisted that it was just a club, his refusal to work on improving. 

The sound of footsteps brought Yamaguchi back to the present. As if his thoughts had summoned him, he saw Tsukishima walking by, clutching a towel and seemingly deep in thought. Before he could even stop and think, Yamaguchi ran out the door towards him, a shout of “Tsukki!” tearing its way out of his throat.

The night air was a refreshing change from the usual sweltering heat and bugs. Yamaguchi leaned over and placed his hands on his knees, gulping in lungfuls of it, winded after sprinting to catch up to Tsukishima. The blond stopped and turned towards him.

“Tsukki, you’ve always done everything in a cool, smart way.”

Yamaguchi couldn’t look him in the eye, instead focusing his stare on the ground in front of him and Tsukishima’s scuffed white shoes. 

“I was always jealous,” he panted. For Yamaguchi’s entire life, he had always been lagging behind. He didn’t have Tsukishima’s height, or brains, or nonchalant attitude. Of course he was jealous. 

It was so frustrating to see someone so naturally talented, someone who had so much potential just squander it all. It was so unfair that Yamaguchi, who had worked so hard for so long, still couldn’t compare to Tsukishima, who didn’t even try. He felt his lip wobble and the fabric of his shorts tightly gripped between his fingers. The anger built up in his chest, writhing and hot.

“But lately you’re being lame, Tsukki!”

  
  


Yamaguchi stood up to his full height and threw his arm out to the side, clenched fist trembling. He saw Tsukishima's shoulders tense and eyes widen at the sudden outburst. Yamaguchi had always been shy and soft spoken, too afraid to even ask for extra ketchup at restaurants. But now he took another step closer, fierce determination in his eyes.

“Hinata might become the Tiny Giant someday. That just means you have to beat him, Tsukki!”

Tsukishima’s eyes narrowed and Yamaguchi could tell that he had struck a nerve. The two of them were surrounded by so much talent and potential. Hinata was progressing in leaps and bounds, going from someone who had never played a real match to their greatest weapon. And yet, Tsukishima found himself stalling, static, stubbornly clinging onto only what he had. 

“You should prove with skill that you’re a more amazing player than Hinata is!”

Yamaguchi gestured wildly with his hands, tone rising and brown eyes locked with Tsukishima’s gold ones. Tsukishima was stunned into silence. He had never seen Yamaguchi like this before, so full of passion that it was bordering on rage. 

“You have the height, brains, and instinct, so why do you decide that getting any better is impossible?”

Why? Because he was scared. Because he didn’t want to put everything into something when he couldn’t guarantee that it would give everything back. Because it wasn’t worth the risk of heartbreak, so better to just keep his heart guarded. Tsukishima knew that he was naturally gifted at volleyball, and Yamaguchi knew it too.

Yamaguchi breathed heavily, knees shaking and throat stinging from the yelling. He was a wreck, sweating and panting, hair sticking up all over the place. And yet Tsukishima hadn’t even moved from his spot, seemingly unbothered as ever, but Yamaguchi could see the conflict in his eyes when he began to speak.

“Even if I work really hard and become the best player on Karasuno’s team, what will happen after that? On the off chance that we get to the national championships, what’s beyond that? There is always better, and even better. It’s endless. Even if you are able to show some results somewhere, you’ll never actually be number one! You’re gonna lose somewhere! Everyone knows that! So what is the driving force behind everyone?”

Tsukishima was yelling at this point, leaning in towards Yamaguchi and begging him to listen. In his mind he could see images of the rest of the Karasuno team, all fighting and clawing their way up, scrapping for every hard-won inch. Couldn’t they see that it was all destined to end eventually? There was no  _ point _ , so why bother trying at all? 

Yamaguchi grit his teeth, a low growl scratching its way up his throat. He wanted to scream in frustration. He knew that they would lose eventually. In fact, out of everyone on the team, he was the one most used to failure. 

A volleyball match. A float serve. The ball hitting the top of the net and falling as if in slow motion, landing on their side of the court with a devastating thud, and the silence that came afterwards. The overwhelming sense of guilt, disappointment, and failure that Yamaguchi was so familiar with. 

But that  _ didn’t stop him from trying _ . 

Yamaguchi strode forward, unable to control his legs. He gripped the front of Tsukishima’s t-shirt, wrapping his fingers around the soft white fabric and using it to drag Tsukishima towards him. Yamaguchi’s eyes were closed, unable to see the look of total shock on his face.

“What…”

Yamaguchi’s gaze snapped up, furiously blazing holes into Tsukishima’s own. Using the shirt as leverage, he pulled Tsukishima even closer, shaking him with trembling arms. 

“What the hell do you need outside of your own pride?”

Yamaguchi’s voice was desperate at this point, loud, raw, and pleading. The two boys panted, Yamaguchi nearing sobs, sharing laboured breaths in the inches between their faces. The aftershocks of the question seemed to hang in the air.

The silence was tense. Tsukishima looked down at Yamaguchi illuminated in the moonlight, eyebrows drawn together over dilated pupils and teeth bared in a feral expression. He could feel his clawed fingers still clinging to his shirt and hot breaths tingling on his neck. Somewhere in the back of his mind he faintly noticed that Yamaguchi had gotten taller, that there were only mere centimeters between them in height. But a lot more had changed about him than just his height. 

They were so close. Yamaguchi could feel the body heat radiating from Tsukishima, or maybe that was just his own blood rushing through him. His breaths were rapid and shallow. It would be so easy to just pull Tsukishima a bit closer…

Suddenly realizing what a compromising position this was, Yamaguchi released his death grip on Tsukishima’s t-shirt and staggered back several steps, eyes widening. 

“To think… that a day like this would come.” Tsukishima spoke slowly.

Yamaguchi tilted his head to the side, blinking several times confusedly. Tsukishima lifted his gaze to meet Yamaguchi’s and smiled softly and genuinely.

“When the hell did you get so cool?”

Yamaguchi’s jaw dropped open slightly and his eyebrows flew upwards. Did he hear that right? Did Tsukishima really just call him cool?

As if to confirm his thoughts, Tsukishima repeated himself. “You’re really cool.”

“T-tsukki, what’s wrong?” There was no way that he would have admitted that freely. Was this a ploy to get him to stop being angry?

Something about the way that Tsukishima was smiling and the contemplative look on his face told Yamaguchi that it wasn’t. 

“But I’m not convinced.” Ah, there it was. “I’m going to go ask something.”

Yamaguchi stood under the moonlight as he watched Tsukishima walk away, gaze lingering just a bit too long. Instead of anger though, a deep sense of satisfaction filled him, warming him from the inside out. 

Maybe he wasn’t quite so lame after all.

Tsukishima absentmindedly let his feet wander while he mulled over the confrontation that had just happened. Seeing Yamaguchi grow from a shy, anxious mess into someone who had literally shaken sense into him impressed Tsukishima. A warm glow of pride for his best friend settled in his chest.

_ What do I need outside my own pride? You, Yamaguchi. I need  _ you.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed and realized how much of a badass yamaguchi is! he’s always portrayed as like tsukki’s sidekick, but i really wanted to show that he’s his own character and that he’s capable of so much. also i just love this scene a lot (i rewatched the episode like four times lol). anyway please leave comments/kudos if you’d like and check out all of the other amazing artists/writers participating in yamaguchi week 2020!
> 
> \--
> 
> come talk to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/c4tboykei)!


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